


The Good Stuff

by Fabrisse



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-20
Updated: 2010-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b>  a photo of coffee with a heart in it @ <br/><b>Summary:</b> Reid doesn't like the crutches<br/><b>Spoilers:</b>  Through the current point of season 5.<br/><b>Warning(s):</b>  None.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Stuff

The hardest part about crutches had been the coffee.

When he'd first gotten them, Reid thought the hardest part was stairs, but a little practice, a little investigation into where there were elevators, and a willingness to forego dignity and slide down on his ass if necessary, had gotten him over stairs as an issue.

He also didn't tire as quickly as he had at first. Reid was filling out, developing a chest from carrying most of his weight on his arms, and it was kind of cool.

There'd been adjustments and frustrations, of course. His new apartment was on multiple levels, and that had been a problem for the first week or two.

A few months earlier, he'd done his research, looked at his bank account, looked at the economy, and decided that it was time to buy a condominium. He'd checked out his own neighborhood first, where the condos down the street had originally been offered at two-fifty and were now going for one-eighty, but things that he found acceptable in a rental apartment, like lower ceilings and limited closet space, were not okay in a place he wanted to own. If even one of the places he'd seen had the kind of view he had from his then current place, he might have signed, but after looking for several weeks, he'd thought maybe it just wasn't going to happen.

One of the people at a local management company had taken a little more time with him. Jenny asked him all sorts of questions about what he was looking for and why.

When he'd mentioned it to Morgan, his friend had clapped him on the shoulder and said, "She's hoping you'll ask her out."

About three weeks after Jenny had grilled him so thoroughly, she called. "Doctor Reid, do you have to live in Southwest?"

Reid thought for a moment, "I know I can't afford Northwest, well, nowhere that would be convenient for my commute, but no, it doesn't have to be Southwest."

"In that case, I think I may have found a condo for you. The company I work for acquired the building through a bankruptcy sale. All but one of the purchased units is owner-occupied, which will help on your loan applications, but less than half the units have sold. It's in Northeast, not far from Union Station."

"Would you be free to show it to me this afternoon?" Reid liked the sound of being closer to where his commute originated.

"Is three o'clock too early?"

Reid glanced at his watch. "I'll be taking the VRE, so it'll be closer to three-thirty."

"I'll see you then, Doctor Reid." Jenny gave him the address and told him where to find the front door.

The building had been a school or, possibly, a factory when it was first built in the late nineteenth century, Reid thought as he looked at the large red brick building. The neighborhood was trying to gentrify a bit, but it was anyone's guess whether or when it would succeed. There was a great deal of street construction going on, about half the storefronts were empty, and the closest grocery store was a discount place with a very limited selection.

On the other hand, the apartments available were wonderful.

Jenny met him in the lobby and bundled him into the elevator. "I know you said you were looking for a one bedroom, but you also said you could go up to two-fifty on a place if it was really great. We have a two bedroom for two-forty on the top floor that I think might be the place you want."

All Reid could think when he opened the door was that Jenny had really listened to him when she'd asked all those questions. The main room was large and two stories tall. The windows faced the Capitol and the dome filled a large part of his view. The kitchen was open plan, which he didn't care for, but it was less obtrusive than many like it -- plus plenty of closet space. There was a loft area over the main room that opened onto a large roof terrace and the master bedroom was on the same level. The guest room was down stairs behind the living room. Its window didn't look out on anything particularly good, but the room itself was large and quiet. He hadn't planned on a two bedroom, but this could be an office.

It had taken him two days of research and another visit before he made an offer. He'd asked Morgan to come with him to look at the place, but he wasn't available. Prentiss had come instead, and she'd gone over the place with a fine toothed comb, asking questions, noticing details -- both good and bad -- and making suggestions about how to think about decorating.

That was something Reid hadn't considered. He'd lived in a studio for so long that he hadn't thought about needing more furniture.

Still, the two of them sitting on the floor of the main room, watching the sunset behind the Capitol dome, had decided him. This place felt like it could be a home. Reid put in an offer the next day and had been able to move in the following month.

There wasn't much in the neighborhood, but his first day living there, he'd found Sidamo. It was an Ethiopian coffee shop that roasted the beans on the premises. He'd bought a double espresso and a teacake, and walked out an hour later with six pounds of freshly roasted coffee: one for him, one for the office, and one each for Prentiss, JJ, Garcia, and Hotch who had helped him move. Rossi and Morgan could make do with Starbucks since they hadn't helped. (All right, Morgan had been in Chicago for his Mom's birthday and Rossi had been on a custodial in Tennessee, but if they hadn't helped they didn't get the good stuff.)

He'd gotten into the habit of grabbing a triple espresso and a teacake every morning on his way to catch the first VRE of the day at Union Station. It woke him up and started the day well. Every Monday, he'd buy a pound of coffee to take in for the office pot and even Morgan -- Morgan who could drink cop shop coffee without flinching -- had noticed the stuff tasted better.

Except now, Reid was on crutches. He couldn't get there earlier because they didn't open earlier. He couldn't drink as he walked. He couldn't carry the cup without spilling, and he couldn't figure out a way to change that.

After a week of grumpiness, Prentiss had taken him to lunch and asked whether he was having pain management issues.

Reid laughed. "No. I'm not craving opiates. I'm craving coffee. I'm used to having some before I get on the train, and then doing some personal work, journal articles or reading for class, on my commute. I can't do that right now and make the first train."

"Then take the second train," Emily said.

When Reid looked puzzled, Emily continued, "We all have our coping strategies. You've been injured. You can't fly with us, even if we weren't off the rotation while Hotch is out, so it's not like we're working the most urgent cases. You work more than an eight hour day most of the time. So take a later train in the morning. Sit down at your coffee shop, have your coffee, and do your personal work on a later commute. You get on at the first station, so it's not like you won't get a seat."

"And I could beat someone up with my crutches if they tried to make me stand." Reid grinned. "You think Rossi really wouldn't mind?"

"If it's seeing you an hour later or putting up with your moods, I'm sure he'd rather see you an hour later."

"That bad." Reid winced.

Emily gave him an assessing look. "Nearly. You probably are having more pain than you'll admit, too. But if getting a cup of coffee in the morning will help you feel better…"

"My doctor thinks I'll be on a cane in a month or two. That should help."

She gave him a dazzling smile. "Don't rush it. I think we'd all rather see you heal more quickly by staying off it, if that's what it takes."

"Thanks, Emily."

She handed him twenty dollars. "This week's coffee is on me. See if they have the Harrer this week."

Reid laughed and pocketed the twenty. "Harrer it is."

**Author's Note:**

> _Author note: I go to Sidamo on my way to work every day. It always smells great, and the proprietors are really nice._


End file.
